Afterwards
by Brown Eyes Parker
Summary: In which Sherlock & Molly talk with his mum's prompting. Post: "The Finale Problem". Slight spoilers. Sherlolly.


**Afterwards**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **Rated: T**

 **.**

"What are you going to do now?"

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock asks.

Mrs. Holmes sips her tea, the perfect picture of calm and all-knowing. "What are you going to do about your pathologist?"

Sherlock grimaces. "Who told?" he demands.

Mrs. Holmes sets her cup down. "Mycroft told me about the _whole_ exchange!"

"Of course he did!" Sherlock grumbles.

"Sherlock, have you spoken to this Molly Hooper since you said that you loved her?" Mrs. Holmes asks.

"No, no I haven't spoken to her since that afternoon," Sherlock confesses, wondering when he turned into a stuttering fool. "I've had a lot on my plate lately. . . there hasn't been an opportunity to talk to her. . ."

Mrs. Holmes nods. "I thought as much. That's why I asked her around for a cup of tea this afternoon."

"You asked her all the way out here to have _tea_?" Sherlock asks, looking appalled. "Mum, _why_ would you do something like that!?"

"Because you told her that you love her, I think she deserves some sort of an explanation. Don't you?"

"She probably hates me now," Sherlock mumbles.

"Love does not simply go away overnight, Sherlock! She might be disappointed and hurt but she definitely does not hate you. But I'm sure the silence is killing her, you've got to let her know. . . let her know something. Even if it's that you don't really love her, she deserves closure so she can finally move on with her life. Unless you _do_ love her, then you have to let her know. For both your sakes. It's only fair. If you're so lucky to love someone, to have that someone love you in return then you need to hold onto them. Nothing lasts forever, dearest."

"Watson said something similar to me a few weeks back," Sherlock tells her.

"Really? Well, your friend is a very smart man."

"But I-I don't think I could be good at loving her.

"My darling, love isn't something you're good at. You have to learn how to do it just like you learn how to do anything else, like playing the violin. It takes loads and loads of practice, sometimes you'll hit the wrong note and have to make corrections to the score. But the melody will be beautiful if you just keep at it."

"She deserves so much more than me, mum. I am self-involved and prone to dark moods. Most of the time, I am married to my consulting work. And I have addictive tendencies. I am not well-suited for her."

"And yet _you_ are the one she loves! She loves _you_ Sherlock despite everything, despite all your flaws! I know you are trying to talk yourself out of this. . . this being what you would call _chemical defect_ but you shouldn't. I know you're capable of love, more capable of it than even you know. No, no more protests. She's here, pull yourself together now. Think of something nice to say to her."

"Hello Sherlock," Molly says before he can react.

His breath catches in his throat and he wonders if he's always had this reaction to her but has never noticed it before. "Molly," he replies, standing up.

"Your mum said you wanted to speak with me."

Sherlock looks at his mother, who's nodding at him encouragingly. "Yes. . . yes, I think we do need to talk," he answers. "Would you care to take a walk around the lake with me?"

"We can do anything you'd like," Molly replies.

"I'll keep the tea warm for the both of you," Mrs. Holmes tells them as she directs them outside. "You two go and have a nice long conversation. I don't want to see either of you until you've said everything that needs to be said!"

The door closes behind them and Molly turns to look at the consulting detective. "Sherlock, what was your mother talking about?" she asks. "Don't come back until you've said everything that needs to be said?"

"Come along," Sherlock says, waiting for her to fall into place beside him.

Molly pales. "Oh gosh, she knows, doesn't she?"

"Yes," Sherlock responds. "But I promise you that I didn't say anything about it, Molly. It was all Mycroft."

"Well, it isn't like it was a private moment between just the two of us. It was bound to get out," Molly says. "I'm sure it'll end up in John's blog eventually and then the whole world will know about it."

Sherlock pauses and stoops down to pick up a stone. He tosses it and watches it skip across the water. "You must despise me."

Molly looks surprised as she stops beside him. "No! No, I don't despise you!" she tells him earnestly. "I'm still very confused about _why_ you needed me to say it. Nobody's taken the time to explain it to me but I don't. . . I don't despise you. I could never. . ."

Sherlock turns to look at her so abruptly, it startles her. "You were a pawn in my sister's game."

"Sister?" Molly repeats. "You have a sister, Sherlock?"

Sherlock nods. "It's a long story. _I_ didn't even know she existed until recently. She knew all about us though and she set up this elaborate game because she wanted me to play with her."

Molly sighs. "So, even though it wasn't your fault this time, I was still just being used."

"I thought she was going to kill you," Sherlock answers flatly. "She told me she'd rigged your flat and I couldn't tell you what was going on or she'd blow you up even before you got the chance to say you love me."

"Sherlock, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course," Sherlock says.

"Y-you said it was a game. W-was it just about winning for you? O-or did you _really_ want to save my life?" Molly can't even look at him when she asks this.

"Of course I wanted to save your life!" Sherlock replies, sounding harsher than he means to. He takes a deep breath. "Are you still discounting your worth even after all these years?"

"My worth? Am I really worth something to you? Are we really friends?"

"Yes!" Sherlock says adamantly. "Believe it or not, I _do_ love you!"

Molly looks at him, the shock evident on her face because he wasn't the type of person to just blurt things out. "W-what did you just say?"

"I do love you!" Sherlock reiterates. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get here, I know I probably should have called you as soon as everything was over with with my sister. But believe me when I say there was a lot going on. And also, I couldn't face you."

"You couldn't face me? Why not? I'm just good old Molly, there was nothing to be afraid of."

"Yes there was," Sherlock answers. "I was afraid because I knew the second I said _I love you_ for the first time that it was true and I'd spent most of the time we've known each other suppressing it. I was afraid because I thought I had ruined everything by forcing you to tell me that you loved me. You had no context for it. I was afraid because I was so close to losing you and it was all pretend. I was afraid. . . _am_ afraid because I could never be good enough for you. There's so much that is fundamentally wrong with me, you deserve so much better."

Molly places her hands on his face and looks him straight in the eyes. "Don't I get a say in it too? I am the other half in this equation, after all."

"Well, what do you say?" Sherlock whispers.

"I love you," Molly tells him, unwavering. "I love you despite of everything you've said or done. I might deserve better but I don't want it. I just want _you_. Is that okay?"

"I might not be good at it," Sherlock says her.

"I'm counting on it," Molly replies.

Sherlock places his hand on top of her's and kisses it. He feels something akin to relief now that they've sort of discussed things. "Come on, mum has tea."

There would be time for everything else.

 **End**

 **.**

 **Author's note:**

 **It took me about 50 tries before I was actually happy with this story. It's been a long a while since I've written Sherlock & Molly but after THE finale, I had to contribute something. Or a few somethings, we'll see where inspiration strikes.**

 **In the meantime, I hope you'll tell me what you thought about this! I am looking forward to hearing your thoughts.**

 **Love,**

 **Holly, 1/25/2017**


End file.
